Rain
by Yami Mariko
Summary: *Companion to The Real Folk Blues* One rainy night, a certain white-haired tomb raider awakes... And is forced back into a bitter recollection of the past...


Disclaimer:  Right…

A/N - Sheer desperation forced me to write this.  Part two of the "Yugioh fics with Cowboy Bebop songs series, AKA the Real Folk Blues series." Please leave  a review, although I think this is crap myself…

**Rain **

I don't feel a thing

And I stopped remembering

The days are just like moments turned to hours

_            "Wake up.  Why aren't you waking up?  You stupid bastard…  What did you do to yourself?  I was lying, why…  Why did you believe me…?  You fool…"  _

Bakura's eyes snapped open in the darkness.  His breath choked out of him for a frightening few seconds.  He slowly relaxed, realizing where he was.  Not in that nightmare world of broken promises and empty words.  But he was alone now.  He closed his eyes for a moment, and an image of a familiar face with wide, worried eyes stared at him for a long moment.  

            "Damn you.  You still haunt me…in my dreams after all these years.  Ten years.  Ever since that day…"  Bakura smiled, a cold, empty smile, but a smile none the less.   For a moment, a hand touched his shoulder, and a voice called out to him, ever so sweetly.  "I should've listened.  You're always right anyway.  But instead, I lost you…to yourself."  

Mother used to say

If you want, you'll find a way

Bet mother never danced through fire shower

            He sat up, and his eyes focused to the room.  He stared emptily around the small room, taking note of certain things and reminded himself of what age it was.  It was like almost yesterday that he had walked from this very room, ignoring the voice that called desperately for him.  "I'm just a cold bastard at heart, I guess."  He spoke to the empty presence in the room, that ten years ago, would've been filled with a sad, brave presence.  

            It was midnight.  It was midnight…when he died.  He could replay the image in his mind a million times, coming home and seeing it had all been for naught.  Seeing the eyes he had gotten lost in so many times dim.   The same pair of eyes he had loathed, and even now despised.   He was Bakura after all.  So desperately jaded that no one could get in.  But for a few blissful years, he had a lover.  

            Had Bakura truly loved him, he knew not.  Maybe inside, he had never loved him.  Maybe he had done it because he simply wanted the other's body.  But…maybe not.  Walking in this room, seeing that face light up upon seeing him.  Maybe he had been someone else's world, but now he was alone again.  Not that it mattered to anyone.

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain

I walk in the rain, in the rain

Is it right or is it wrong

And is it here that I belong?

_            "Thank you for the flowers Bakura!!" _

_            "Childish baka."_

He got up now, and walked slowly towards the small pile of glass that lay in a small pot, in the corner of the room.  It was a vase.  Once.  Now it was a pile of glass shards.  One was stained with blood.  All these years, and Bakura had never cared to wash them or dispose of them.  He picked one up and stared at it emptily.  It was very large, and very sharp.  It's tip was stained with dark, dried blood.  He closed his eyes.  

            _"Bakura…please…don't go…"_

_            "Damn, you're such a childish bastard!!  Just shut up and leave me alone already!!  I can take care of myself, and you know it.  I hate you.  I wish I had never met you."_

I don't hear a sound

Silent faces in the ground

The quiet screams, but I refuse to listen

The hurt in those eyes…  The regret Bakura had felt…for a brief, flickering moment.  Before he slammed the door and walked away.   He didn't think that he would've taken it so seriously.  He looked outside.  It was raining.  The sky poured tears down for Bakura, who would never cry.  Not for anyone.  He didn't know how much he missed his lover.

            He wanted to get up and walk, walk far away to the cemetery.  So he could sit at his lover's grave and curse at him and tell him off for leaving.   Bakura put the glass shard back, silently, and looked towards another item sitting on the shelf.  Still in perfect condition.  

If there is a hell

I'm sure this is how it smells

Wish this were a dream, but no, it isn't

              He picked it up, and wiped at the tarnished metal.  The item glowed softly at him, and he fingered it gently, rubbing his fingers along the gold.  The silent eye on the puzzle stared solemnly back at him.  For a moment, the owner of the puzzle appeared, staring solemnly at him as well, before vanishing into nothingness.  

            He put the puzzle back, and shut his eyes again.  For a moment, it was the instant that he had realized his lover was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood, and it was all Bakura's fault.  He opened his eyes, and thought mournfully of eyes the color of blood.  He thought of the blossoming white roses that he had bought and were spread around everywhere.   He, for a moment, truly grieved for his dead lover, before he shut his eyes again, and lay down again.  

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain

I walk in the rain, in the rain

Am I right or am I wrong

And is it here that I belong?

            Bakura glared at the empty space beside him for a long moment.  "I loved you, you fool, I really did…"  His eyes blazed for an instant.  "Why did you have to be so STUPID, and go and kill yourself?"  He shut his eyes tightly, and the darkness of sleep consumed him.

            "Damn you."    

Walk in the rain, in the rain, in the rain

I walk in the rain, in the rain

Why do I feel so alone?

For some reason I think of home


End file.
